


The Clue In The Yoghurt

by EllanaSan



Series: 146 aesthetics for one OTP challenge [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, F/M, Papa!Haymitch, Post-Canon, mama!effie, movie!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22386994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: In retrospect, Haymitch should have known something was up the morning he walked into his kitchen, rubbing his face to chase the remnants of sleep, and found Katniss pilfering his fridge.
Relationships: Haymitch Abernathy & Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket
Series: 146 aesthetics for one OTP challenge [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604485
Comments: 14
Kudos: 188





	The Clue In The Yoghurt

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this one was "accidental pregnancy". I've done that to death with Effie so I took another approach ;)

In retrospect, Haymitch should have known something was up the morning he walked into his kitchen, rubbing his face to chase the remnants of sleep, and found Katniss pilfering his fridge.

He blinked, rubbed his face harder, and lifted an eyebrow but the sight didn’t change. Katniss pulled a white container out of the fridge with a happy exclamation and carried it to the counter to doctor it with fresh berries and honey. It took him a while to identify the white thing as yoghurt.

“Morning.” he grumbled, heading straight for the coffee maker. “Any reason you’re stealing my food?”

She could have, at least, made him some coffee while she committed her theft.

“We’re out of yoghurt and you don’t eat it.” she muttered defensively, sitting down at the table to eat.

“Since when do _you_?” he retorted.

The yoghurt came with the monthly standard package of supplies the government so generously sent them. They didn’t get to choose their groceries yet. Twelve was still mostly cut off from the rest of Panem, with only a handful of refugees back to start clearing the rubbles. On the bright side – at least according to Peeta – it had forced him to remain on the sobriety train because nobody wanted to send him liquor.

Katniss shot him a complicated look and then kept on eating without answering. He grabbed his coffee and sat down on the opposite side of the table and watched her eat. That doctored yoghurt of hers looked disgusting. She had dumped half the content of the honey jar in there, there was more of that than yoghurt. He hadn’t thought she even liked honey, she hardly ever touched the stuff.

“You lost a dare or something?” he mocked, nodding at the spoonful of yoghurt flavored honey she was staring at.

She completely ignored him and shut her eyes in delight when she closed her mouth on that spoon. She gobbled a few more spoonfuls and then drummed her fingers on the table, not meeting his eyes. “When is Effie coming back?”

“Why? You want her to bring more yoghurt?” he scoffed.

Effie had visited Twelve twice since the end of the war. Once when she had brought Peeta back and another time around a month earlier.

He had told her not to be a stranger and he had meant it but it was difficult when they didn’t live on the same side of the country. After the months in Thirteen, she had accepted Plutarch’s offer to remain as his assistant – now with the glorified title of Chief of Staff – and her job often kept her busy. Too busy to travel to the opposite side of Panem to see him – _them_ – more regularly.

“Do you think she would?” Katniss immediately perked up and then wrinkled her nose. “For real though. When is she coming?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Why?”

The girl visibly hesitated. “Cause I need to talk to her. About girl stuff.”

He snorted and finally took a sip of his coffee. “I’m hurt. I thought I was the one you talked to about boys troubles.” She glared at him but it was strangely mellow, more worried than angry, and that made him frown. “Alright. What’s wrong, sweetheart? I can do girly stuff if it’s serious.”

She studied him for a moment and then looked back down at her yoghurt, stirring it slowly. “It’s about _girl_ stuff not girly stuff.”

“Oh.” he said finally understanding. Not just boys troubles or the like but _girl stuff_. Yeah, no, he wasn’t discussing the merits of pads over tampons. “Why don’t you call her?”

“Cause I want to talk to her alone and I don’t want you or Peeta to walk in on the conversation like you always do.” she snapped.

He recoiled a little, startled by the sudden burst of anger. He lifted his hands in a peace offering. “Fine. Use my phone then. And I’ll go make sure Peeta stays busy until you’re done. How’s that?”

Relief and gratefulness washed over her face. “ _Great_. Thanks.”

She bolted around the table and actually pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving him blinking. Then she stood there, expectant, and he understood he wasn’t going to get to finish his coffee in peace first.

“You’re a pain in the ass.” he grumbled. “She’s on speed dial. Just press the One key.”

Yeah, in retrospect, he really should have known something was up because, while the two of them had become closer in Thirteen, it wasn’t like Katniss to go to _Effie_ with any kind of problem when _he_ was _right there_ – girl stuff or not.

And yet he wandered to the kids’ house, blissfully unaware, and forced Peeta to make him some fresh coffee, complaining about Katniss stealing his yoghurt like he actually cared, distracting the boy long enough that the kid offered to heat some cheese buns for breakfast. It was almost a whole hour before Katniss reappeared.

He had tempted Peeta to a game of chess in the meantime and it took him another hour before he could get Katniss alone. “So? You feel better about your girl stuff?”

Katniss’ face was unreadable. She swallowed hard and shrugged. “Maybe. Effie wanted me to tell you she’s coming for the week-end.”

That made him frown because Effie had never come _just_ for two days before. The trip was a long one, when she came it was for at least a week. For her to drop everything and actually _commandeer_ a hovercraft…

“Sweetheart, everything’s alright, yeah?” he worried. “Cause if you need to see a… special doctor for… for _girl parts…_ I mean… We can explain that to Plutarch, they _have_ to let you go to Thirteen for that if…”

“Oh, please, _shut up!”_ she hissed, flushing red.

He didn’t get anything more from her.

He didn’t get anything from Effie either when he called her later that day. She was her usual flamboyant self, albeit maybe _too_ cheerful to be honest, and distracted him with tales of her visit to District Four – it was for work but it had had the added benefit of letting her check on Annie and the baby. By the time he hung up, with the promise she would see him in less than two days, he was left with nothing but a vague sense of dread for something he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

He watched Katniss for the next couple of days but couldn’t really find anything wrong with her aside for a new discovered passion for the honey she put everywhere. Even Peeta was starting to look at her funny about that.

When the hovercraft finally landed outside Twelve’s ruins – the meadow couldn’t be used anymore, it was a vast crater they were using as a mass grave – Haymitch was determined to have answers _first thing_. The problem, however, was that the sight of Effie on the top of those stairs was _damn_ distracting. Fashion might have subdued a bit but Effie Trinket would _never_. She was wearing a professional looking suit – _ish_ , in his opinion – in navy blue, red and gold. The tight skirt and the velvety blouse were navy blue with puffy sleeves, anchored at the waist with a large rigid gold belt and various red and gold embroideries on the front.

She looked radiant.

She was wearing her blond hair natural – well, he doubted the volume of those curls was natural but it wasn’t a wig or under her head scarf, at least – and the make-up was there but a lot less pronounced than before the war.

Her crimson lips stretched into a happy grin the moment she spotted him. She sauntered down the steps and he forgot what he wanted to ask because she was tossing herself in his arms and he caught her and twirled her and kissed her and it was like one of those _fucking_ movies she loved so much.

Good thing there wasn’t anybody there. 

Aside from the hovercraft crew who had started unloading the ship, that was.

He forced himself to draw back, pecking her lips one last time to watch the ballet of soldiers carrying crates out of the hovercraft. “You’re moving in or something?”

Her mouth twisted as it always did when she was fighting a smile at one of his bad jokes and she lightly whacked his shoulder. “I come bearing _gifts_.” His lifted his eyebrows and she clarified. “Supplies. No alcohol, do not get excited. If you would tell the other refuges…”

“Sure.” He nodded. It was early for a supply shipment but he figured she had to justify her trip somehow. “So… Not that I ain’t glad to see you but… What’s going on?”

“I _do_ hope you are happy to see me!” she laughed. “Help me with my suitcases, will you?”

Suitcases, _plural_.

“You’re staying two days!” he grumbled when he realized just how many bags she had brought. “ _Two_ days.”

“Three actually.” she corrected. “Thirteen didn’t have a hovercraft scheduled back to the city sooner. Stop complaining. One would think you are not happy to have me here.”

“I’m happy to have you here. I’m less happy you’re hiding things from me.” he muttered because he wasn’t fooled by how expertly she kept avoiding the subject.

Her cheerful mask softened a little and she placed a hand on his arm. “Do not push this yet.”

“There’s something to push, then.” He made a face. “How bad? She said girl stuff. Is it _health_ stuff? Cause I know I don’t want to get involved in periods and that _shit_ but… If she’s sick she can talk to me. It’s not…”

“Haymitch, she is fine.” Effie cut her off, handing him her vanity case. “Let me handle it for now.”

There was a finality to her voice that made him sigh and nod. She had said _yet_ and _for now_ which implied he would be told at some point, he just had to trust her to take care of it in the meantime and he did trust her so…

“Fine.” he answered.

“Good. Now, my suitcases.” she reminded him.

He looked like a pack mule on their way back to the Village. Her luggage was heavy and he complained about it all the while – all the more so because he made sure they avoided the worst of the ruins, he wasn’t in any mood to trip on a charred corpse and the sight always upset Effie. They crossed path with Tom and the bodies cleaning crew and they greeted her cautiously, if Effie noticed the weariness she was oblivious – or pretended to be. People had grown used to her in Thirteen, had tentatively accepted her for a rebel. It wasn’t all smooth but they had accepted she was part of the victors’ team. They lingered only long enough to tell them about the supplies, then they hurried home.

He wasn’t sure what he had imagined their day would be like but he had been pretty sure he would be kissing her as soon as they were indoors and there would be a lot of sex first thing. Because he missed the sex.

Sure, before the war, they had seen each other once a year and had made the most of their shared one or two months but in Thirteen they had practically been living together and he had grown used to _that_.

What he _hadn’t_ imagined however was that Katniss would be pacing in his front yard and would make a beeline for Effie as soon as she spotted them.

They hugged each other like the world was about to end.

Effie had managed to calm his anxiety down a notch but it came back rearing its ugly head.

“What the hell’s going on?” he snapped for the third time.

“What is going on is that you will go back for our supply crate.” Effie told him in her best escort voice, the bossy one that annoyed him to hell.

“You’re kidding me!” he scoffed. “Look…”

“Haymitch, please.” Katniss cut in, still in Effie’s arms. She looked small and frightened and the protective way Effie was holding her told him she wouldn’t relent anyway.

“Okay.” he caved. “Okay, but when I come back you better _fucking_ loop me in.”

“Hopefully, there will be nothing to explain.” Effie replied tersely and grabbed all her luggage from him, shooing the girl away when she tried to help.

It was a long trip back for his allotted supply crate. Mostly because he spent it worrying.

All in all, he had been gone half an hour, twenty-five minutes at most, he hoped it was enough for Effie to sort everything out. But when he stepped into his kitchen, he knew at once whatever it was they had sorted, it wasn’t good.

Katniss was sitting at the table, staring at an untouched mug of tea, tear tracks on her cheeks, her jaw clenched. Effie was reorganizing the cupboards with some sort of manic energy. They both startled when he came in.

He slowly put the heavy crate on the table and watched them both. Neither said anything.

He didn’t like how distressed the girl was.

“Where’s Peeta?” he asked.

“Painting in the basement.” Katniss mumbled. “He’s not doing well today.”

Which meant it wouldn’t take much to trigger an episode. Haymitch rubbed his face. “Alright. Tell me.”

Effie and Katniss exchanged a long complicated look. The girl was the first to look away.

“There’s any yoghurt in there?” she asked hopefully.

“In the refrigerated compartment.” Effie nodded. “I made sure. We should put the perishables in the fridge anyway. I cleaned it up, I hope you do not mind.”

The last part was addressed to him and he scoffed. What did he care if she had tossed away whatever had gone bad in his fridge? “I mind not being told what’s going on.”

“I want the yoghurt first.” Katniss said, standing up and walking around the table. She grabbed a random ladle and used the hilt as a lever to pop the crate open.

“Dear.” Effie said with some urgency. “Let Haymitch do that.”

“Sure.” he grumbled, snatching the ladle from her hand and exchanging it for a more sturdy metal rod he kept in one of the drawers. “Let Haymitch sweat. Let Haymitch feed you yoghurt. But _don’t_ tell Haymitch what the _fuck’s_ going on…”

“We will tell you as soon as you are sitting down.” Effie promised, in a soothing tone that did nothing at all to soothe him. “And perhaps… Some tea.”

Clearly, nobody was in any hurry to tell him what was the latest catastrophe. Katniss sat back down with her yoghurt, Effie whirled around between the crate, the fridge and the teapot. She wasn’t happy until the groceries were stored and he had a mug of herbal tea in front of him. Then she put her hands on her hips, took a deep breath and looked from him to Katniss while biting down on her bottom lip.

“How _fucking_ bad is it?” he asked, unable to control himself anymore. He had been patient. He had been kind. Now he wanted answers because…

“It is…” Effie hesitated, her eyes lingering on Katniss. “It is not _ideal_. But, _please_ , do not get angry, Haymitch. This is upsetting the girl enough. We do _not_ need your theatrics on top of it.”

“My _what_?” He scowled.

_Theatrics_. Coming from _her,_ that was rich!

She didn’t answer, she was looking at Katniss, clearly expecting her to take over. Haymitch stared at her but the girl kept her eyes down on the yoghurt she seemed to have problems eating. She was fighting tears. Katniss was fighting tears.

He wasn’t good with his girl crying.

And, _hell_ , for her to be crying instead of being all guns blazing…

He breathed out and reached for her hand, gently patting it. “Sweetheart, whatever it is… I won’t get mad.”

He was treated to a sideway glare.

“You say that _now_.” she mumbled.

He rolled his eyes. “Did you kill another President? Or play with poisonous berries?”

This time the glance was hurt rather than angry. “Of course _not_.”

“Well, then…” He shrugged. “Can’t be _that_ bad.” The joke earned him a half smile and a sniff. He could have done without the sniff because now Katniss’ lips were wobbling for real. “Hey.” He frowned, dragging his chair closer until he could wrap her in a side hug. “Hey, _hey_. It’s _okay_. We’re gonna fix it, yeah? Whatever it is, we’re gonna fix it.”

As she leaned into his side, he searched Effie’s eyes over the top of her head. Effie had crossed her arms and there was an odd look on her face.

“Do you want to tell him, dear?” Effie asked softly. “Or should I?”

Katniss shook her head where it was buried into his shoulder and Haymitch instinctively petted her long loose hair like he did with Effie when she was upset. It wasn’t a clear answer to the question but after a second it became obvious she wouldn’t say any more and Effie took a deep breath. Her blue eyes met his and her face was pleading, as if she was begging him to _not_ overreact.

“Katniss is pregnant.”

The words meant nothing at first. They simply didn’t make sense. They didn’t _compute._

Then the meaning sank down and he stared at Effie, opening and closing his mouth several times, unable to find the _words_.

“How can she…” he ended up stuttering. “She can’t be… They’re not…”

“They _very_ _much_ are.” Effie sighed.

“No, no, _no_.” Haymitch vigorously denied, shaking his head and tightening his hold on the girl. Katniss had gone rigidly still in his arms. “They’re _not_. Cause the boy didn’t come to me, see? And I _told_ him during the Tour… I gave him condoms and I _told_ him to come to me if he needed more. And they weren’t even doing it then, remember? And he _didn’t_ come to me, sweetheart. He _didn’t_ come to ask for condoms so they’re _not_ having sex ‘cause they wouldn’t be _stupid enough_ to have un- _fucking_ -protected sex when we’ve sat them down for a _fucking_ hour and told them all about how it’s a _fucking_ dumb idea!” 

He hadn’t been aware his voice was getting louder and louder but he was _very_ aware he had yelled that last part because the girl flinched.

“We forgot.” Katniss whispered in a small tiny voice.

“You _forgot_?” he repeated, still shouting. And yet he didn’t let go of her, he kept her close. “You _fucking_ forgot? How do you forgot _that_? It’s the first rule, it’s the first…”

Whenever his body was, Chaff was rolling around in his grave. Eleven’s victor had taught him from the very start: never _ever_ go out without a hat. His only exception to that rule had been _Effie_ and that had come after _years_ and an _actual_ conversation. And _trust_.

It hadn’t even been a year since the war! _Hell_ , it hadn’t even been _six months_. And there they had gone and…

“Haymitch.” Effie called softly.

“ _What_?” he snapped. “You ain’t gonna tell me you’re happy with them, right? Where’s the boy? I’m gonna _kill_ him!”

Katniss’ hug became more restrictive than needy. “You can’t! I haven’t told him yet.”

“You haven’t…” he sputtered and then drew her away from him because _really_ … “ _How_ , in the _fucking_ name of every _fucking_ _fuck_ , did you _forget_ about _condoms_?”

“I understand you are upset but, please, mind your language.” Effie rebuked, finally leaving the counter she was leaning against to take a seat at the table. She snatched his untouched mug of tea and took a sip. She didn’t look any happier than he was but she was hiding it better. Then again, she probably had her freak-out in the Capitol. _She_ had had _two days_ to digest the news.

“It’s not… It’s not like it’s something everyone uses here.” Katniss snapped defensively. “It’s not…”

“Oh, no, you _don’t_!” he cut her off. “Yeah, maybe Twelve ain’t the best place to find contraceptive methods, particularly right now, but, _fuck_ , we told you to play it safe and you could have found means if you had _looked_ for them. _Hell_ , I _told_ the boy I would get them for him if he needed it…”

“Well, maybe we didn’t want you to know we were having sex.” she snapped.

“Lots of good it did you!” he retorted, loudly clapping his hands in anger. “Lots of good! So to avoid five minutes of awkward conversation, you’re now getting eighteen years of motherhood. _Congrats_!”

Her grey eyes filled again and she turned to Effie who wordlessly opened her arms, an irritated pout on her lips.

As Katniss switched to her embrace, Haymitch’s wrath found a new target. “ _Don’t_ tell me you’re alright with _this_.”

“Of course, I am _not_.” she scoffed. “As I expressed to her on the phone, but what is done is done and she is upset enough.”

“Oh, she’s upset enough, is she?” he chuckled. “Well, let me tell you…”

“I don’t want a baby.” Katniss hissed, cutting him off. She looked at him, her face bathed with tears, pain and helplessness in her gaze. “You think I don’t know it was stupid? _I don’t want_ a baby!”

It was like a bucket of icy water had been poured over his head, dousing his anger. He met Effie’s eyes and Effie rubbed her forehead, clearly at a loss. The declaration was no surprise for her. It was no surprise for him either, truth be told.

“Alright. _Alright_.” he said, forcing himself to think more clearly. “Are we even sure…”

“I peed on three _bloody_ sticks.” Katniss snapped.

Too much information.

But it explained why Effie had showed up in such a hurry. She hadn’t brought _just_ yoghurt.

“Yeah, but those tests… They ain’t always reliable.” he countered, looking at Effie. “Right?”

“I got three different brands.” she argued. A ghost of a smile floated on her lips. “The drugstore owner looked at me funny. You should be prepared for rumors of us expecting to hit the press.”

“One horrifying thought at a time, sweetheart.” he dismissed, his eyes darting down to her very flat stomach.

Because she knew him that well, she snorted. “No, _I_ am not pregnant, Haymitch.”

“Still.” he mumbled, his eyes lingering a second longer on her stomach. “Those tests ain’t one hundred percent reliable. Until we get a blood test…”

“I did not think it wise to involve a doctor until we were certain.” Effie cut in. “And with three different tests saying the same thing, two missed periods and all the craving for yoghurt and honey, I will go on a limb and say we _are_ certain.”

Haymitch rubbed his face, pushed the yoghurt back in front of the girl just so she would stop crying and then forced himself to _think_. “You’re two months along?”

“Probably.” Katniss mumbled, flushing red to the roots of her hair. “It’s when we started…”

“Don’t need the details.” he snapped. “All I need to know is that you didn’t do it _clever_.”

“What are we going to do?” the girl begged, looking at him as if he had a magical solution right up in his sleeve. “We can’t have a baby. We _can’t_. Peeta’s still… And me I’m… And I don’t even _want_ it!”

He met Effie’s eyes again and they had a whole conversation without saying anything. She was reluctant and he was too but if she was serious about not wanting the baby…

“It isn’t too late to look at other options.” Effie slowly said. “If you truly wish to interrupt the pregnancy, there are ways.”

Katniss stared at her for a moment and then shook her head very fast, wrapping both arms around her middle section. She went white. “That’s not happening. I’ve seen women come to mum _after_. It… It _never_ ends well. Do you _know_ what they do? They take a knitting needle and…”

“That’s in the Districts, sweetheart.” Haymitch cut her off. “In Twelve mostly.” Effie looked horrified enough that he made a face. “Yeah, it never ended pretty. Infections and stuff.”

“I… see. No, darling. There are surgical procedures for that.” their escort promised, reaching out to cover her hand. “Pills, even. I won’t pretend it is painless but… It is certainly an option would you wish to consider it.”

Katniss frowned at her, still looking a little horrified. “You want me to kill the baby?”

“ _She_ doesn’t want you to do _shit_.” Haymitch quickly corrected before the wording could upset Effie. “You’re the one saying you don’t want it.”

“You should not think about it as a baby.” Effie advised. “Right now, at this stage… It is simply a clutter of cells.”

Katniss was staring at her as if what she was saying didn’t make sense. And Haymitch figured, for someone who had lived all her life in Twelve where people could be very old-fashioned about certain things, what Effie was saying was probably _not_ making much sense.

“Would you do it?” the girl finally retorted, and it sounded like an accusation. “If Haymitch had gotten you pregnant and…”

“That is irrelevant.” Effie interrupted quickly.

He nodded. “Entirely different situation.” He could tell Effie was surprised by that comment but, faced with her small interrogative frown, he simply shrugged. “Well… We’re adults, for one.”

Effie took that in stride and reported her attention on Katniss. “I cannot conceive, darling. Or, at least, it would be very difficult for me to do so without a _lot_ of medical procedures. An accidental pregnancy has never been a worry for me. You cannot ask me what I would do if I were you because… I cannot relate.”

Of course, there was also _that_.

“I’m probably shooting blank anyway.” he felt obligated to add because there was a new layer of tension in the room. “Point is… Abortion is nothing shameful, sweetheart. It’s been invented for cases like this. If you’re sure you don’t want the kid…”

But the way she was pressing both hands against her stomach told Haymitch it was more complicated than that.

She had her stubborn face on too. “I’ve seen enough people die, I’ve _killed_ enough people. I can’t do that to my…” She let her voice trail off and averted her eyes. “Peeta would _never_ forgive me if I did this.”

Haymitch rubbed his face because she had a point. “Why haven’t you told the boy yet? He should be here.”

“It is Katniss’ body.” Effie replied swiftly. “She has a right to decide for herself.”

“Yeah, but it’s also his child we’re discussing.” he argued, raising his voice a little. “Doesn’t he get a say too?”

Katniss grabbed her yoghurt and glared at both of them in turn.

“Can you stop fighting?” she snapped. “I didn’t tell him because… Because I didn’t know what we’re going to do and I didn’t want to get his hopes up. And I told you. Today isn’t a good day.”

There was a short silence and then Haymitch cleared his throat. He hated to be the one to be realistic there but… “Yeah, but there aren’t a lot of good days, are they? And you’re barely back on your feet… You disappear in the woods for hours at a time… How is that gonna work with a baby?”

Katniss clenched her jaw, tears shining in her eyes again. “I don’t know.”

“What happens when the baby starts wailing in the middle of the night and it triggers the boy?” he insisted. “What happens when the grief’s too strong and you don’t want to do anything but wander the woods or hide in a cupboard, sweetheart?”

“ _I don’t know_.” she repeated, more firmly.

Effie placed a protective hand on her shoulder, glaring at him. He ignored her.

“That cat of yours is always hanging around my kitchen ‘cause you forget to feed him.” he continued. “What happens when…”

“I get it, Haymitch!” Katniss shouted, slamming her fist on the kitchen table. “I _don’t_ know! I don’t even _want_ it! It’s not…” She shook her head. “I know it’s shitty. I _know_.”

“There is always adoption.” Effie suggested quietly.

He rolled his eyes. “The state the Districts are in, orphans aren’t in high demands right now. People have to think about feeding their family first.”

“Not in the Capitol.” she remarked. “So many children died at the…”

“No.” Katniss hissed. Her hands flew back to her stomach again. “No. Peeta won’t want that anyway.”

Haymitch sighed, snatching the mug of tea back from Effie and wishing he had something – _anything –_ to spike it with. He took a long sip, using that as an excuse to calm himself down.

“So what do you want to do?” he asked. “Keep it? I get it but I don’t think you and the boy are in any state to do it. Not safely.”

Katniss glared at him but the anger quickly faded into something like despair and she buried her face in her shaky hands. She didn’t say anything she just remained like that.

“Haymitch, a word.” Effie demanded more than she requested, standing up. She gestured at the kitchen door so he followed her across the corridor and to the living-room. “It might not be safe for them to do this alone but they are _not_ alone.”

It took him a moment to understand what she was implying.

“Oh _no_.” He scowled. “ _Fucking_ no. That baby won’t be any safer with me that it will be with them. _Hell_ , it’d probably be _worse_.”

“You are sober.” she reminded him calmly. “You…”

“Being sober’s half of it.” he retorted. “You see _me_ being responsible for a _small kid_? I’m already doing a _shitty_ job with the almost-adult version!” Which reminded him… “Can’t believe they were _that_ stupid. And _Peeta_ … I’m gonna wriggle his neck. I told that boy…”

“ _Haymitch_.” she snapped in that tone of voice he had long grown used to listening to. He fell silent. She pursed her lips, shot him an annoyed look. “Obviously, it takes a village to raise a child…”

“Yeah, that’s the point. We _don’t_ have a village.” he snorted. “We’ve got two badly traumatized kids, me, a handful of men who are busy clearing the town’s ruins and Greasy Sae. Granted, Sae’s probably gonna be the most important…

“You forget me.” she cut him off again.

He snorted. “You? How are you gonna help me take care of this baby from the other side of the country? Cause, let me tell you, shipments of clothes and toys won’t…”

“I won’t be on the other side of the country, obviously.” she interrupted for the third time, jerking her chin up in a defiant attitude. He knew that chin jerk. The chin jerk meant _business_.

But her words made no sense.

“What?” he asked, his anger and righteous indignation deflating.

She licked her lips, met his eyes. “If they are keeping this baby, _obviously_ they are going to need more help than you can provide alone. They will need both of us. So… I suppose, I will simply move here.”

His ears were ringing.

He has asked her.

Before he had brought Katniss back, he had asked her to come with them. She had refused to leave Peeta behind. And, by the time Peeta had come home, she had been busy playing Chief of Staff for the Secretary of Communications.

He wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t want her with him. Denial had come and gone. They had shared a compartment in Thirteen, he knew they could live together well enough – probably _better_ with a whole house instead of a single room and a tiny bathroom. He also knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, that had never been in question.

But…

He studied her, noting the tinge of uncertainty under the confident mask she always wore.

“Is that a trick to get me to say yes?” he asked slowly. She shook her head. His frown deepened. “But you love your job, sweetheart.”

And that was the reason he hadn’t asked again.

She was always excited when she talked about her new job, _happy._ She got to travel and actually show off that amazing brain of hers instead of playing the dumb debutante… She loved bossing people around too…

“I love the children more.” she argued. “And you realize I do not, in fact, _need_ to work, right? I am more than comfortable money-wise. My modeling years alone made sure of that and my father’s investments, of course… Relocating would probably be for the best anyway. The city has become even more expensive and living there will eat through my savings, which is saying something because… Like I was saying. I am _filthily_ wealthy.”

“Ain’t talking about money.” he dismissed easily. Money had never been a problem since he had won and with the victors stipend still being sent every month, it would never be again.

Her smile was blinding and terribly fake. “Well, sacrifices have to be made and I cannot expect you to make all of them. The children need us and I intend to be here to help.” She avoided his eyes, stared at the dusty framed pictures on the fireplace mantle instead. She was the one who had put them there during her first visit: pictures of the kids, of them, of the four of them together… “Naturally, I do not assume you are ready for us to live together. I am quite certain nobody would object to me taking one of the empty houses…”

“Don’t be stupid.” he scoffed. “You know you’re welcome here.” He shook his head, his stern expression slipping off his face as he reached for her arm. “ _Fuck_ , sweetheart… You know I _want_ you here.”

Her smile dimmed into something a little more genuine and she leaned against him, wrapping both arms around his waist. “We can do this.”

“I don’t want a kid.” he grumbled.

“It won’t be yours.” she argued. “You will be Grandpa.”

“Yeah, and how much do you wanna bet that baby’s gonna spend all his time at our place?” he mocked. “They’re _not_ ready to have a kid. _Fuck_ , _I_ ’m not ready for them to have a kid.”

She sighed. “It’s done, now.”

He rolled his eyes when she tightened her embrace. He could tell he was being manipulated. _Hell_ , he could tell he was being _outmaneuvered._

“Fine.” he granted. “For the record, though… If I’m Grandpa, that makes you Grandma.”

She made the same face she would have if she had sucked on a lemon.

Katniss was still sitting with her face in her hands when they walked back in the kitchen. She dropped them and looked up, the picture of despair and apprehension.

Haymitch was actually impressed she hadn’t run off to the woods or hidden in the closest small dark place.

“So, here’s the thing…” he announced. “If you want to keep it, we’ll help.”

Effie whacked his arm with an irritated pout that immediately blossomed into a bright reassuring smile when she addressed Katniss. “Haymitch and I will pick up the slack. Consider us full time babysitters. Anytime you need it, anytime you feel like you cannot handle it… We will be there.”

“But you need to tell the boy.” Haymitch added quickly. “As soon as he’s feeling better, you tell him.”

“Can you be there?” Katniss asked.

He nodded.

The girl bolted around the table and hugged them both before darting out the door with a mumbled excuse about hunting something for dinner.

Once they were alone, Effie sighed. “I need to call Plutarch.”

“Let her tell Peeta first.” he objected.

She hesitated but agreed. Her mind remained on track though. “I will need to go back to the city in three days as planned. I need to hand in my two-weeks notice anyway and I need to organize the move… I need to find the best OB for Katniss too… And make sure he can make discreet trips to Twelve but that is probably better left to Plutarch’s discretion anyway so…”

He kissed her hard on the mouth before she could keep going.

It had always been a good way of making her shut up.

“Nothing you can do _right now_.” he pointed out. “So let’s go upstairs and _not_ make a baby, what do you say?”

She laughed. “I say it is the _worst_ come-hither line I have ever heard.”

“Still ain’t hearing a no.” He smirked and tugged on her hand.

She followed him willingly enough.

But, then again, he was willing to follow her into that much more crazy adventure so… It seems fair.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not plan to write more in this verse for now but I kind of like the idea so I might revisit it at some point ;) Let me know your thoughts!


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